


she puts the color inside of my world

by whyyesitscar



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, tbh it's mostly just jestergard but the others are there enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22029817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyyesitscar/pseuds/whyyesitscar
Summary: beau and jester help each other through visits to their respective hometowns // or: i want the party to visit kamordah so bad i wrote 5k about it
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 32
Kudos: 271





	1. jester

**Author's Note:**

> me: car, write the big project you're already really behind on  
> also me: okay but  
> me: what if i just kept writing jestergard twoshots  
> me: 
> 
> anyway, john mayer's a giant douche but goddamn if this song isn't perfect. second chapter should be up hopefully soon because i gotta get this out of me. we're ending 2019 real gay, my friends
> 
> enjoy!

_fathers, be good to your daughters—_   
_daughters will love like you do._

/

Beau doesn’t change when they finally get to Kamordah.

Not that Jester wants Beau to change—Beau is charming and wonderful and funny and a lot of other good things—but going back to the place she grew up should be a big thing, given the trauma associated with it. Jester expects her to pull inwards, to maybe be mean or sad or something. But as far as she can tell, she’s still just regular grumpy, gruff Beau. Jester doesn’t like it. She spends most of her time watching Beau, the closer they get, instead of commenting on the terrain and how many rocks there are, like Caduceus and Yasha do. ( _I didn’t know rocks could look like this,_ Yasha says. _They’re nice rocks_ , Caduceus answers, and Jester remembers she’s not the only one who grew up sheltered.)

Finally she has to pay attention to something else because Beau is just...infuriating. This isn’t like when Caleb returned to Rexxentrum, or Yasha to Xhorhas, or even the first time Jester went back to Nicodranas. Beau is just—she’s behaving like they’re just on another adventure, not like this is the place where she got kidnapped and learned not to trust people. Jester knows Beau has feelings about that, she _knows_ it. And Beau is such a different person than she was when they first started traveling together, so it’s not, like, totally crazy to expect a little bit of an emotional outburst.

Maybe this is just who Beau was when she lived in Kamordah and it was everything after that changed her.

“Something on your mind, Jessie?” Beau says when they rest for a while, a few hours outside of the town.

“No.”

Beau huffs and picks up a stone, skipping it over the mottled earth. It gets a few good hops before it hits a pebble and banks to the left, skittering to a stop.

“Because it seems like there is,” Beau continues, undeterred by Jester’s answer.

“Well, I mean, there’s always _something_ on my mind, Beau.”

“Okay, sure. Anything about me?”

Jester can’t help wiggling her eyebrows. “Ohh, _lots_ of things,” she purrs.

Beau laughs and blushes just a little bit. “Okay. I got it.”

She walks back toward the rest of the group, stopping briefly to press a kiss to Jester’s temple. This time it’s Jester’s turn to blush, still getting used to Beau’s particular kind of sincerity. She shows affection quietly, simply, but never secretly. Whatever they are now is still new, and yet Beau fell into it with a practiced ease. Jester loves unabashedly but Beau is more subdued. Where Jester envelops, Beau blankets. Jester’s love is loud and deliberate and Beau is just...there, tangible and sturdy.

Kamordah is rust and charcoal when they arrive—every shade of brown that has ever existed and deep greens that dot the hills and vineyards but never quite make it to the center of town.

Beau comes from dirt, and Jester understands.

/

They aren’t here specifically to see Beau’s parents but it’s kind of unavoidable. There are only a few taverns in town and everything is pretty much on one street. Most people work in the hills; it’s really only the merchants and label owners who stick to their shops. The Mighty Nein can’t go anywhere without encountering Lionett wines in some fashion. It’s only a matter of time before they cross paths with Beau’s family.

Still, Beau and Nott are the only ones who aren’t squirming the longer they stay. Nott is excited to see so many halflings, having been away from Felderwin for so long, and Beau is just Beau. She hasn’t been recognized yet and Jester wonders how long ago Beau was taken to the Cobalt Soul, how young she was. Jester can’t imagine a Beau younger than she is now, or at least anything she could imagine probably isn’t right. She smiles to herself, taking a moment to imagine Beau exactly as she looks now except half her size, with tiny monk robes and a deep scowl.

Beau clocks Jester’s laugh out of the corner of her eye. “What’s up?”

“When did you shave your head?”

Beau takes a long sip of her ale and turns, slightly angling her body toward Jester. “Not until I got to the monastery; I think I was about fifteen or sixteen.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal but it is; it is a very big deal and Jester’s heart is hammering.

“What was it like before?”

“You’ve seen me in the morning.”

“Yeah, I know, but—” Jester scrunches her nose, appraising Beau’s head. “I can’t imagine you with, like, hair all over.”

Beau laughs, an easy smile spreading across her cheeks. “It’s just hair, Jes. I dunno, it was long but not Bright Queen long, you know? I always wanted to cut it short but my parents insisted. I could tie it back but that was about it.”

Jester gasps. “Did they put you in dresses and braids all the time? I bet you were so cute, Beau. I bet you were, like, running around all the time and scuffing your knees because sometimes it’s hard to run in a dress, and probably you came home with mud on your face and your braids pulled out, and your parents were like, ‘We paid a lot of money for that dress; why won’t you be fancy, Beauregard!’, and you were like, ‘I don’t want to be fancy, I want to punch rocks,’ and you were so rebellious…” Beau hasn’t interrupted her yet so Jester trails off, not quite sure where her vision was leading. “Sorry if you don’t want to talk about it, I know you weren’t very happy here.”

Beau shrugs. “It wasn’t as poetic as that. My dad was pretty superstitious so he didn’t like to cut hair. Maybe he still is? I dunno. My family was fancy, I guess, but mostly in the way that they left me alone a lot. I didn’t really have anyone to run around with until I got into, you know, gangs and shit.”

Jester props her elbow on the bar and just looks at Beau, takes in her open face and the frank way she says everything. “You make me sad sometimes,” she murmurs.

“What?”

Jester frowns and thinks, tapping her fingers against her cheek. “You know, like, sad for you but it isn’t pity. I just don’t think—it isn’t normal to grow up so lonely and you shouldn’t have had to.”

“Says the girl who spent her childhood hidden in a brothel.”

“Well yeah, but—”

“Anyway,” Beau cuts in quickly, “it got me to you guys, right? No harm done.”

There’s a snort from behind the bar. “Not for lack of trying.”

Beau rolls her eyes but doesn’t turn around. “Fuck off, Ozzy.”

Jester leans forward, steadying her feet on her stool, to look sideways at the barkeep. She’s a stout halfling woman, her skin tan and leathery; it creases rather than wrinkles. She’s wiping down a line of mugs, putting them on a towel behind her once they’re clean. There are at least three other patrons who have been trying to get her attention but she hasn’t looked up in minutes.

“Do you know Beau?” Jester asks, even though it’s obvious she does.

“Everyone in this town does,” Ozzy answers. “You know who her family is, right?”

“Duh.”

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” Ozzy continues.

Beau finishes her drink in one long sip. “Didn’t think I’d ever be back.”

Jester’s eyes flit between the two of them, trying to decide if they like each other. She’s pretty sure Beau likes Ozzy, or did at one point—her eyes are friendlier than they are angry, though the anger might just be a function of where they are. Ozzy is harder to read, though Jester thinks she sees the corner of her mouth turn up a little.

Jester continues to wait in silence, even though she hates waiting so much.

Eventually, Beau picks a few coins out of her pocket and drops them on the bar, spreading them out to check their denomination. She pushes a silver to the side as she counts, but Ozzy is faster and sweeps up a gold piece.

“Hey!”

“You never closed out your tab,” Ozzy says, winking.

“What? Yes, I—ooh.” Beau straightens up and blushes just a little bit. “I was gonna pay you with my cut from the last job, but—”

“Indeed.”

“Okay, well. Here.” Beau pushes the pile of money toward Ozzy; one of the silver pieces snags on a protruding nail. “My tab was way more than just a gold piece.”

Ozzy finally looks up, regarding Beau for a long moment. Eventually, she pushes the money back. “A gold is all I need.” She puts down the last of her mugs and finally walks over to someone else at the bar. Eyes still trained on Beau, she pauses. “You look good,” she says. “You good?”

Beau doesn’t answer (or at least not fast enough), so Jester pipes up.

“Yes, she is!” she says emphatically. “Beau is the best and she is so strong and amazing and we’re very important people now and we have, like, _so_ much money—”

Beau sighs. “Jes, you’re gonna get us robbed.”

“Whoever it is, we can totally kick their ass. Especially you, because you’re such a cool, important monk with super hot abs and so many friends.”

Ozzy shakes her head and sends them off with a wave. Jester watches Beau look at the coins for a second before deliberately not taking them. Beau is _so_ good.

“You think the others are done shopping?” Beau says as they walk outside, both of them squinting against the sun.

“Probably not, but we don’t have to find them yet. We can, like, walk around or something.”

Beau smiles, taking Jester’s hand. “I have the perfect or-something.”

Jester giggles and bumps her hip before they start walking, faster than a stroll but definitely slower than Beau usually walks. She can’t really go anywhere slowly unless she’s trying to annoy Caleb or Fjord. Beau has just as much energy as Jester does. She just seems to express it in more practical ways.

“Where are we going?” The answer seems to be ‘out of town’, but Jester wants to know specifically anyway, just because. She likes knowing the things Beau knows.

“There are a few spots of this place that I don’t completely hate. And I never really got to share them with anyone before, so.”

Jester leans her head down to Beau’s shoulder for a moment, scratching fondly at the inside of her palm. Kamordah isn’t a terrible town; it’s not exactly pretty but if there’s any appeal to rusty rocks, it’s definitely here. There isn’t as much dust as Jester thought there would be and sometimes the breeze is nice. The few people they pass on their way toward the vineyards offer polite smiles. Beau would probably fit in here now more than she did growing up, Jester thinks as she watches a group of kids play-fight with sticks.

Beau stops.

“Beau?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay?”

“Sure.” The sweaty hand holding Jester’s would say differently. “You know what, let’s just go back to the inn, okay?” Beau pulls at Jester’s hand a few times, and Jester isn’t sure if she’s trying to let go or run away. She holds on tighter either way.

Jester frowns. “Beau, it sounded like you wanted to share something special. I don’t want you to miss out on that.”

“We can come back later, I promise.” This time Beau definitely tugs Jester back towards town, and Jester is sure that if they leave now, Beau has no intention of coming back.

Jester roots herself firmly into place. “You’re lying.”

“I’m really not,” Beau sighs. “Let’s just—I need to get the fuck out of here.”

“No.”

“Jester…”

“You can try to make me leave but I’m stronger than you, Beau.”

Beau crosses her arms. “Bet I’m faster than that. You wanna test it?”

“Okay,” Jester shrugs. Beau hesitates for just a moment, surprised, and Jester acts immediately, pulling Beau toward her and slinging her into a fireman’s carry in one smooth movement.

“Jester!” Beau strikes her back, definitely not in a playful way. “This is so not cool!”

Jester ignores her and starts scanning the area, looking for a quiet place for them to sit and talk. There isn’t one immediately in view, so she keeps walking in the direction they’d been heading. They’re not far from a pretty steep hill, which is where she thinks Beau might have been going anyway. It isn’t long before she reaches the base of it, and she angles Beau even further toward the ground as she climbs, making sure she never gets enough control to escape.

“You wait until I get out—gonna fucking fight you—show you what Inflict Wounds really means—you don’t even _know_ ,” Beau mutters as she strains against Jester’s grip.

Eventually Jester spots a cluster of trees, and she hasn’t seen anyone in a while so she figures they’re probably not going to be found. She dumps Beau unceremoniously on the ground, taking care not to turn her back.

Beau quickly springs up, dusting off her pants. Her hands clench into fists automatically but she doesn’t raise them. “What the _fuck_ , Jester?”

“Exactly, Beau! That’s how I’ve been feeling ever since we got here only I’ve been too nice to say anything except now it’s just…” She exhales a big breath and resists the urge to stomp her foot. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me; what the fuck is wrong with _you_?”

“There is nothing wrong with me right now but if I were back in my hometown and probably about to see the family that treated me like garbage my whole life, there would _definitely_ be something wrong with me and you would know about it!”

“Okay.” Beau puts her hands on either side of her head and walks around in small circles. “Okay, okay, okay; this isn’t—how can I explain this.” She rests her chin on the tips of her fingers and Jester can’t help rolling her eyes.

“Oh my god, Beau, this isn’t something you have to teach me. You can be wrong sometimes, you know.”

“I think—I think this is what Caleb feels like when we argue. Holy shit, I gotta apologize to him.”

“Okay, so we’re doing this the stupid way.”

“The st—excuse me?”

“If this is how your arguments with Caleb go, you should listen to him more.”

“Hey, I’m an excellent listener.”

“Right now, can you be an excellent shut-upper?” Beau glares menacingly but Jester watches the corners of her mouth tick upwards for a split second. “You’ve been fine this whole time and even though I think _that’s_ a bunch of bullshit, I wasn’t going to make you talk about it because sometimes people just need space to process. And then all of a sudden we’re having a nice day and you start feeling not-nice about it, and I can’t give you space anymore because it’s driving me crazy and also now you’re taking it out on me which is totally unfair.” Jester inhales slowly and fiddles with the hem of her dress. “I know that you’re hurting and if you don’t want to tell me why, I won’t make you. But I think you need to tell someone, and there’s no one else here right now besides me, so.”

“Jester, I’m not—”

“Beau!” Jester does stomp her foot this time. “I’m not Fjord or Caleb; I won’t let you lie to me.”

Beau stops walking and cocks her head, waiting for Jester to back down (which they both know isn’t going to happen). Jester simply crosses her arms and waits right back.

“Okay,” Beau acquiesces softly. She puffs up her cheeks and blows out a breath slowly. “There’s...a lot that’s going into what I’m feeling right now, but the quick and dirty of it is that my parents have never really liked me, which is like, not that surprising, probably.”

“Of course it’s surprising, Beau,” Jester says, furrowing her brows.

Beau mimics her expression before huffing a little laugh. “I didn’t mean—thanks, Jessie. I just meant, you know, I’ve told you before that they weren’t the best. So that probably isn’t surprising.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, they don’t like me for a variety of reasons, which is why they hired the Cobalt Reserve to kidnap me and why they left me there for, like, seven years without a word. The only time they sent me a letter was to tell me I had a little brother, like, a year and a half ago.”

“Beau…”

Beau waves a hand quickly, cutting Jester off. “We can talk about it later, Jes; I don’t really know how I feel about it. I know how to handle my parents and I know that my dad is a piece of shit. But those kids back there—” She swipes at her eyes, tries to hide a sniffle. “They’re all too old to be him, I know that. But I don’t know what he’s like, I don’t know if he knows about me. Fuck, I don’t even know what his fucking name is.”

Really, Jester just wants to say Beau’s name until either of them stop feeling sad, but she’s already tried that and probably it’s not going to happen anyway. Or she wants to run into town and punch Beau’s dad until he realizes how gross he is, and how horribly he treated the best person Jester’s ever known. But that wouldn’t really undo any damage and she’d only feel good about it for a little bit.

So she walks over to Beau instead, puts her hands on her cheeks and kisses her long and soft. Jester slides her hand down Beau’s arm and threads their fingers together as she guides Beau toward a tree. She sits down, leans against the trunk, and wraps Beau in a hug when she settles in between Jester’s outstretched legs.

Almost all of Beau fits within Jester’s arms. Jester hopes that’s as comforting for Beau as it is for her.

She rests her chin on Beau’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to her temple. “We could leave right now,” she whispers. “I could find everyone else and tell them to meet us outside of town and if anyone asked questions, I would hit them so hard.”

Beau’s laugh turns into a shaky breath. “Thanks, Jes. I think I’m good. Besides, we’re here for information and if anyone knows anything in this stupid, fucking place, I guarantee you it’s my dad. And I’m not gonna hide from him while I’m here.”

“Okay.” Jester rubs Beau’s arms, trying to warm away the shivers of tears. “Beau, I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Say that again after we go talk to Thoreau fucking Lionett.”

Jester plans to.

/

They sit for an hour or two before Beau starts to get squirmy. (Usually that’s Jester’s job, but there isn’t anywhere else she wants to be right now). She jokes about carving their names into the tree and Jester almost takes her up on it, but she doesn’t want to leave anything in this town that it doesn’t deserve—and it definitely doesn’t deserve Beau.

Jester sends a message to Fjord to meet them in front of the Lionett shop, and even though Beau tries to make them go faster—suggesting they race to the bottom of the hill, or to the edge of town, or then actually running to the edge of town—Jester takes her time. Mostly to frustrate Beau, but also to watch her, to plant the vision of her running backwards, faster than she should given the steep incline. Her hair is fighting with the band keeping it in place; the smile on her cheeks is loose and tired, and she always seems like she’s just on the edge of falling.

Pretty standard for Beau, then. Jester soaks it all in anyway.

The others are already waiting when they make it to the shop, some more patiently than others. (Everyone more patiently than Nott, no one as patient as Caduceus).

“There you are!” Nott shrieks. “We’ve been waiting for ages.”

“Bullshit,” Beau sneers. “Also, you definitely could have gone in.”

“We wouldn’t have gone in without you, of course,” Fjord says. “This is your...well, first impressions mean a lot.”

“Sure, I guess,” Beau shrugs. She cracks her neck and shakes out her arms, steeling her expression only after Caleb rests a hand on her shoulder. She pulls her top bun taut, smooths the front of her robes, and stands straight as a rod. Jester feels pride swell in her chest, and judging by everyone else’s expressions, she’s not the only one.

“Let’s fucking do this,” Beau mumbles.

A bell jangles as the door opens. The shop itself is small but not cramped, a little cleaner than most they’ve visited. Bottles of wine line the walls almost to the ceiling. Jester scans the labels to see if they’re organized any particular way, while she sees Nott eyeing them as if assessing which one would be the best to steal.

There’s an employee at the counter who looks at them curiously, his brow furrowing as his eyes follow Beau. She waves him off and continues toward the back. Jester jogs a little faster to keep pace with Beau as she turns a corner down a narrow hallway. She doesn’t stop as she opens a door at the end.

The office isn’t big enough to fit all of them—Jester is there, obviously, and Fjord squeezes in, but the rest stay outside. Jester is so concentrated on Beau that she doesn’t even notice the man sitting at the desk until he blurts an inelegant “Excuse me!”

He looks enough like Beau that it makes Jester angry—the same slim frame, though he has none of her grit or confidence. He wears his thinness like a coward, hunching his shoulders and leaning back in his chair once he realizes who barged in.

“Beauregard.”

Beau crosses her arms over her chest. “Sup, Pops.”

Jester feels the curl of a cat at her ankles and a chuckle from the hallway.

Thoreau stands from his chair, steepling his fingers on his desk. “It’s good to—”

“Don’t fucking start, okay?” Beau interrupts. “I’m not here to make nice or whatever. This is a business call and I have questions.”

“Alright.”

Jester glares at Thoreau while Beau starts asking him the important stuff. She imagines summoning her lollipop only this time it has ice spikes and she can send them hurtling at his face, or maybe she could blind him and use Thaumaturgy to make it sound like the room was filled with creepy laughter, or she could just banish him to a terribly dark and cold plane where nobody else lives and he wouldn’t be rich anymore and he wouldn’t have his replacement son or family and he would be alone _forever_ —

Fjord taps her wrist, shaking his head as a warning when she looks over. He glances down toward their feet, where Jester’s tail has started to wrap around one of Beau’s legs. She blushes just a little and withdraws it. Jester will just have to content herself with imagining all of the horrible ways she could inflict pain on Beau’s dad. It must read on her face because eventually he stops looking at her.

Fjord interjects occasionally but mostly Beau is the one in charge. She’s smart and she sounds it, and Jester feels a few flutters in her chest at the thought that Beau can only be an Expositor here. Jester is sad and angry but she’s also so, so proud.

The questions run out and Beau starts getting fidgety, wiggling her fingers at her side or drumming them on her arm. Jester wonders if that’s her instinct or something she picked up from Caleb (the brother she should have had).

“Is there anything else?” Thoreau asks.

Both Jester and Fjord look to Beau. “No,” she eventually says.

He nods a little and sits back down, straightening his papers. “Very well.”

“Where’s Mom?”

“Out taking care of a few things in the market.” He clears his throat a few times. “I’m surprised you haven’t run into her yet; you know how small this town is.”

“You know, I’m not really taking the time to shop in this shit hole.”

“What’s his name?” Jester asks, clasping her hands behind her back and twirling just a little bit.

Thoreau’s eyes flit between her and Beau. “I’m sorry?”

“What’s his name, _Dad_?” Beau sneers.

“I—Henry,” Thoreau eventually stammers. “He’s upstairs with the nanny if you—”

Beau spits on the floor. “Fuck you.” She spits again and storms out, Fjord hot on her heels.

Jester lingers, still twirling.

“We have very powerful magic users in our party,” she explains. “If Beau asked us to, we would kill you instantly.”

The blood drains from Thoreau’s face. “I’m—I’m sorry?”

Jester snaps her fingers and casts her Spiritual Weapon, this time taking the form of giant axe made of ice, and hovers it over Thoreau’s head.

“She’s your only daughter, you know,” Jester continues, “and if you weren’t such a shitty father you’d know if she was the kind of person who would ask.” Jester flicks a few shards from the axe onto Thoreau’s lap, just missing the sensitive parts. “Beau is so many good things and none of them are your fault. The most unremarkable thing about her is that she’s nothing like you. If I didn’t know she was waiting for me outside, I’d probably kill you right now.” Jester lets a few more shards quiver and shake. “Have a nice day!” she chirps, hopping a little out of the room.

Her Spiritual Weapon stays where it is, and as she skips down the hallway, she lets two large icicles plummet off the axe and lodge themselves into his thighs.

It’s the nicest thing she could have done.

/

Beau is indeed waiting for her when she gets back outside; the rest of the group are a few yards down the road.

“You leave him alive?” she asks.

“Yep.”

“Bruised?”

“Not yet.”

“Bleeding?”

“Definitely,” Jester grins, making sure to show off her fangs.

Beau pushes off the side of the building and very exaggeratedly drapes her arm across Jester’s shoulder. “I know I say this a lot, and maybe it’s a really weird time to say it, but—”

“You love me?”

Beau finally smiles. “I love you so fucking much, Jes.” She pulls Jester even closer as they walk toward the others, sliding her arm so her thumb can rest firmly on the back of Jester’s neck. Beau can be very possessive but Jester never feels stifled—just warm and protected.

“Fjord told us you got everything you needed, ja?” Caleb says once they catch up.

“Ja,” Jester mimics, drawing it out. “Beau was very good.”

“Jes…” Beau blushes. “It’s just my fuckin’ job. Nothing special.”

“It is, Beau,” Yasha interjects softly. “It is your job and you are special.”

Beau rolls her eyes and kicks at the dirt. “Okay, can we—thanks, Yash—can we get drunk now?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” Nott yells. For once, she jumps up onto Beau’s shoulders instead of Caleb’s. She grabs onto Beau’s ears as if they’re reins on a horse. “Lead the way!”

Beau laughs and shakes her head aggressively, rattling Nott around until her legs slip off. Caleb reaches forward to catch her, leaning in to talk to Beau as he sets Nott back down. Jester stays a few paces behind, eavesdropping as Caleb offers to make the dome if Beau doesn’t want to stay in town.

Beau punches him in the shoulder, then pulls him in for a hug and a noogie.

Jester maneuvers her way between Fjord and Yasha, hooking their arms around hers. Caduceus looms behind them, a comforting shadow, and they all laugh as they walk toward the tavern.

/

Despite her good mood after talking with her dad, Beau is still anxious. Jester knows because she drinks more and yells louder than she usually does. She almost gets into a few fights with other patrons, but both Ozzy and Fjord step in to defuse the situation. Eventually she passes out at the bar and Fjord picks her up, trying valiantly not to show Nott how much he’s struggling.

“You coming up, Jessie?” he asks, very close to gritting his teeth.

“Not yet,” Jester answers. “I’ll round up the others in a few.”

Fjord nods and walks off, catching Beau twice before she slips.

Caleb is already upstairs and Yasha and Caduceus are having a quiet conversation two tables away. Jester will get them in a moment, but first—

She closes her eyes and slowly lets out a breath, counting quickly in her head before she says anything.

_“Hello, Thoreau. This is Jester. I hope your legs hurt very much. Beau is incredible in spite of and no thanks to you, you...turd.”_

She doesn’t wait for him to respond before sending another message, her last one of the night.

_“Also, I want you to know: I’ve seen where you work and I can reach your family. As long as I’m alive, you’re not safe.”_

This time she does wait—his reply is so quiet that Jester thinks she might be imagining it at first.

 _“I understand,”_ he rasps. _“I don’t—Beauregard misunderstands my feelings for her, I think. But I hope she’s happy, and that I never see you again. I’m sorry.”_

“Did you get everything you needed?” Jester jumps at Caduceus’s voice; she hadn’t even heard him walk over. “You look very pensive.”

“Just listening,” Jester replies. “Are you going upstairs?” Caduceus hums and nods slowly. “Will you check on Beau?”

“Of course. I don’t think she’ll need much of my help, though.”

“Probably nothing that a good night’s rest can’t fix,” Yasha adds, and Jester jumps again.

“How are you two so big and so quiet!”

They both laugh, soft in two different ways. Jester wonders if they fit together like Yasha and Molly did. For different reasons, sure, but. It’s very nice to see.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Yasha says, smiling. “Come up soon.” She squeezes Jester’s shoulder as they pass by, and it reminds Jester of Beau. Beau and Yasha are different in a lot of ways, but they carry resolution in their fingers. Jester is always assured by their touch.

“I will,” she promises. Yasha acknowledges her with a wave over her shoulder.

There are still a lot of people drinking. It’s an early bedtime for the Mighty Nein; Jester wishes they could have more like it. Still, she isn’t ready to call it over. It seems like Jester is always waiting for something these days.

“Ozzy,” she calls, hoping the halfling will hear her even though she’s not shouting. “Ozzy, Ozzy, Ozzy, Ozzy…”

“What?” Ozzy yells.

“Can I have a glass of water?” Jester asks, leaning over the counter. “A really big one, to take up to the rooooom for Beauuuu?”

Ozzy grunts what Jester thinks is a laugh. “Don’t usually do that.”

“Yeah, but like. Beau’s totally your favorite.”

Ozzy definitely laughs this time. “She talk to her old man today?” she asks as she pours a pint.

“Uh huh.”

“Thought so.” Ozzy pours two glasses of water and sprinkles a powder into one of them. It’s light purple to start but when it hits the water, it dissolves immediately. “Make her drink this one first,” she says, sliding them over. “I promise it’s not poison.”

Jester smells it, just in case. “Okay.” She puts a few gold on the counter and leaves before Ozzy can give them back.

Their rooms are at the end of the upstairs hallway—everything in Kamordah seems to be at the end of a hallway—and Jester pauses before going into the one she shares with Beau. There’s movement on the other side; Jester hopes Beau isn’t breaking anything.

She turns the doorknob with her tail. “Oh!” The whole group looks back at her, minus Beau, who seems to be passed out on the floor. “I thought we had three rooms.”

Fjord pushes his hair back and straightens up, still kneeling on the floor. “Well. She didn’t...quite make it to the bed, and then she started yelling anytime I tried to move her, and I didn’t want her to sleep on the floor, so...we improvised.” Jester looks around, finally notices the mattresses, blankets, and pillows dragged in from the other rooms. “We even saved you a spot,” Fjord says, patting the part of Beau’s pillow not taken up by her head.

“Will you blow out the lights?” Caleb asks quietly. Jester finds every torch and candle and extinguishes them; not a moment later, Caleb floats his four globules of light. “Just so we don’t have to get up,” he explains with a smile.

Caleb lies down next to Beau—his back against hers, but still close enough. Nott curls into the free space at his front, settling down not unlike Frumpkin. Fjord and Caduceus have taken the mattress on Beau’s other side, both lying on their backs. Yasha is waiting for Jester to lie down so she can stretch out horizontally and fill the space at their feet.

Jester resists a very strong urge to hug everyone, and slides in next to Beau.

“Thank you,” she whispers. No one replies. (She hears them anyway as Caleb puts out his lights).

Jester presses back further and wraps Beau’s arms around her torso. She brings one of Beau’s hands up to her lips and kisses her palm, even if she’s not awake to appreciate it. “I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met,” Jester murmurs. 

Beau’s breath absolutely stinks. She’s sweaty and clammy and about two minutes away from snoring directly into Jester’s ear.

And still, she rests.


	2. beau

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay maybe three weeks later isn't as soon as i would have liked to finish this out, but i've certainly taken longer to write shorter things, so.
> 
> please enjoy!

_girls become lovers who turn into mothers—_   
_so, mothers, be good to your daughters, too._

/

They head to Nicodranas the next chance they get. Beau can tell that some of the others would rather be at home in the Xhorhaus, but she and (surprisingly) Caleb had advocated for somewhere with sun. She supposes that even his pale skin needs nourishment.

Beau is surprised at how settled she feels when they step out of Yussa’s tower. She’s never been the kind of person to feel at home in a place—people have only ever been her sense of home, and ‘people’ is being generous. The Mighty Nein are home, especially Jester. (Mostly Jester). But now, seeing the pristine white-sand beaches, smelling the ocean, listening to the slow static of the waves—Beau would feel happy here no matter her company.

It feels nice.

There are certain techniques and skills Beau only perfects through training with another person, with Dairon or any of her fellow monks. Usually it’s the physical stuff, because honestly how is she going to level up in her training if she’s just punching dummies. You get better at fighting when your opponent is better than you, and as much as it pains her to admit it, all of her mentors fall into that category.

But there’s solitude in being a monk, solitude and awareness that can only come from time spent with the self. There’s a reason she thinks of Nicodranas, of every shade of blue it offers, when she needs to calm down. She seems to have an epiphany every goddamn time she watches a sunrise over the sea. Beau isn’t in any mood to settle down for good yet, but for a week or two? Hell yeah, she gets that.

“You gonna stand there all day?”

Beau blinks out of her reverie, quickly rearranging her expression into a scowl. “Maybe,” she huffs. “What’s it to you?”

“No, nothing,” Fjord says, holding his hands up, palms out and open. “Do whatever you want; I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Beau cranes her head, looking for Jester in the crowd. “Where’s—”

“Jester took off running about thirty seconds ago,” Fjord answers. “Perhaps she’s been spending too much time with you; I’ve never seen her move so fast.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not the only thing she’s learned from me.”

Fjord’s cheeks darken—not pink enough for a blush, but it’s something. “Mhm, of course. Right. Let’s follow, shall we?”

Beau gestures for him to go first. “Lead the way.”

The rest of the group splits off to do a little shopping or drinking; Beau doesn’t really pay much attention to which one. She falls into step with Fjord and they walk in silence. Beau is suddenly struck with a memory of the first time they met, the few days they spent adventuring before running into everyone else. Fjord has changed so much since then (she supposes they all have), but it’s nice to remember where they started.

“Your, um—” They thread their way through the crowd and come out the other side onto a smaller street. “Do you polish your tusks?”

Fjord misses a step. “Sorry?” He tries to be subtle about the way he pulls his top lip over his bottom, but there isn’t much that Beau doesn’t notice.

“No, I didn’t mean it like—you know I’m not, um, if I came off like a dick that’s not how I meant it. It’s, uh, you know it’s really bright out and it’s good. The sunlight. It—you look good.”

Fjord clears his throat and looks down, bumping her shoulder with his. She bumps back.

They’re in front of the Lavish Chateau before he says anything, but he smiles as he holds the door open for her, big and wide and silly. She pushes him just a little as she walks past.

It’s early in the afternoon and the hotel isn’t as busy as it is at night. There is a quiet hum of the staff talking, glasses clinking and tables being set. Any uneasiness still lingering in Beau’s chest is gone and she takes a big breath.

She waves to Tyral as she and Fjord wind their way to the staircase at the back of the main foyer. Bluud is standing to the left of it, arms crossed lazily. Beau bumps his fist and holds her hand up to her forehead, imitating the shape of his horns. He snorts loudly, as close to a laugh as Beau’s ever heard him get.

Jester probably used Dimension Door to get upstairs, and Beau could run up quickly if she wanted to. But Fjord is right behind her, and he’s worth being slow with. Still, she can’t help taking the stairs two at a time and waiting at the top. They go all the way to the third floor like that, then Fjord splits off to check on their group of rooms while Beau makes her way toward Marion’s chamber.

She can’t hear anything from inside as she pauses in front of the heavy door, though that probably makes sense given Marion’s line of work. Beau takes a few calming breaths before she knocks, three short and deliberate raps with the back of her knuckles.

“Yes?” Beau was hoping for Jester to answer but it’s Marion instead.

“It’s Beau. Beauregard. You know, Jester’s—hey!” She steps back quickly as the door is yanked open, revealing a bright and smiling blue tiefling on the other side.

“Beau!” Jester leans in for a quick kiss before pulling Beau inside. “You’re here; what took you so long!”

“What, nothing; you’re the one who booked it.”

“Mama and I were having tea out on the balcony. You should come join us.”

“Oh, no, you catch up with your mom, I—”

But Jester is still holding onto her wrist, and Beau feels herself being pulled through the front sitting room, into Marion’s bedroom (Beau tries not to look around too much), and finally out onto the balcony. Marion is positively glowing in the sun, the jewels in her horns casting drops of light onto the stone floor, her silk robe billowing in the wind. She smiles as soon as Jester steps through the doorway, even giving Beau a small wave.

“Look who I found!” Jester sings as she sits back down. There’s only room for two on the bench, so Beau hops up and sits on the railing, her back to the city. Jester’s tail jumps a little (Beau watches Marion clock it out of the corner of her eye), but she doesn’t say anything.

“Good to see you again, Beauregard.”

“Beau, Mama,” Jester whispers.

Beau waves a hand dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I don’t mind a Beauregard or two.”

Both Jester and Marion look at Beau with the same curious, calculating eyes. She doesn’t look away, but she does blush.

These Lavorre women.

“Mama was just telling me about the parade they had last weekend,” Jester says after a moment. “I’m really sad we missed it; it was always my favorite to watch.”

“We could’ve come back for it, Jes.”

“No, we were busy. I don’t mind missing a parade or two.” Jester winks, flashing one of her fangs.

Beau grins and crosses her arms, only flexing a little bit. “Next year, then.”

Jester’s face falls in surprise before she smiles, close-lipped and soft. “Next year?” she murmurs.

Beau hears everything Jester’s not saying, everything she’s not asking about the future. The future is big and vague, and Beau doesn’t know everything that’s going to happen. But one parade a year from now? Yeah. That’s a no-brainer.

“Absolutely,” she promises.

(Jester’s teeth look good in the sunlight, too).

“Look at the sun,” Marion interrupts, “it’s almost time for me to get ready for the show tonight. Why don’t you two stay out here?”

“No, you should catch up with Jester—”

“I can help you get ready, Mama—”

Marion stands up decisively to stop Beau and Jester’s protests. “You’ll be here for a little longer this time?” They both nod. “Then we will have so much time later to talk. Please, enjoy the sunset.”

Beau hops off the railing, straightens her shirt. She extends a hand toward Marion, who takes it in both of hers. “Good to see you, too,” Beau says. “Um, thanks for...having us.”

Marion laughs and Beau sees shadows of Jester. “It is absolutely my pleasure, Beauregard.” She pulls Beau in for a quick hug, looser than one from Jester but tighter than Beau’s mother would hug her. She presses a kiss to Beau’s cheek on the way out.

“Let Nadine know if you need anything,” she smiles, and walks back into her suite as her robe ripples behind her.

Beau watches until she’s out of sight. Maybe she tries to watch a little even after that.

“Beau,” Jester teases.

“Hm?” She turns her head at the sound of Jester tapping the bench. “Yeah, hey.”

Jester smiles. “She’s very pretty, huh?”

Beau sits down, wraps an arm around Jester’s shoulder. “Oh yeah,” she grins, “I totally see where you get it from.”

Jester pokes her side but she leans down, too, nestling her horn in the crook of Beau’s neck. “Thank you,” she whispers. She reaches for Beau’s hand and pulls it into her lap, running a cool finger across the backs of Beau’s knuckles.

They sit like that for a long while. Eventually, Beau hears Jester’s breathing even out as she dozes. Beau pulls her closer, presses a kiss to her temple. She can’t concentrate on meditating for more than half an hour but she could sit here for a long time just watching the wharf. It’s so different from Kamordah, from the kind of home she’s used to. Nicodranas smells like Jester, warm and alive and just a little salty. Sailors are constantly shouting on the docks; there are thumps and clanks as cargo is loaded onto ships. The seagulls never shut up.

Beau is a monk of the Cobalt Soul, an organization that prioritizes reason and order, and she has fallen in love with chaos.

Jester stirs just as the sky is turning orange at the corners.

“Beau!” she scolds through a yawn. “You almost let me sleep through the sunset!”

“I would have woken you up, Jes, don’t worry.”

Jester sighs and shifts against Beau, sitting up while still squishing as closely to Beau as she can. “I watched a lot of sunsets out here when I was growing up, but I always had to lie down on this bench in case someone was looking.”

“Even when you were a teenager?” A thought pops into Beau’s mind. “You’re not still a teenager, are you?”

Jester giggles. “No, Beau. Once I got old enough I sat up; if anyone saw me they probably just thought I was a client or something. Little kids are more suspicious.”

“Yeah, sure.” Beau hooks her left ankle around Jester’s right, sliding down a little. “Well, it’s a sunset worth sitting up for, that’s for sure.”

“For sure,” Jester echoes. “Did you mean what you said earlier? About the parade?”

“Of course.”

“You’ll still want to be with me in a year?”

Beau shrugs. “We’ve spent a year together already.”

“Yeah, I know, but almost everyone thought about leaving in the beginning. The next year is like...for real.”

“True, true. Well, are you worried everyone else won’t stick around for a year either?”

“I don’t know.” Jester picks up her hand to scratch at her nose, but finds Beau’s again as soon as she’s done. “My dad left before I was born and my mom kept me inside all the time, and I dunno, I guess I just want to find people who will keep me...enough.”

Beau clears her throat, watches a flock of seagulls fly until they cross the sun and Beau is blinded. “Well, I can’t speak for anyone else. Cad might want to go back to his woods eventually, and Nott has a family to get back to once Caleb figures out how to change her. And I don’t really know what I’m gonna be doing—this is honestly farther than I ever thought I’d get in life—but if my choice is doing something alone or doing it with you? I’m sticking around as long as you’ll let me.”

Jester pulls her in for a kiss. Two, three—Jester pulls her in for definitely more than four kisses.

“Jes,” Beau chuckles against her lips, “I thought you didn’t want to miss the sunset.”

“I’ve seen a lot of sunsets,” Jester answers, undeterred.

“Your mom’s like, twenty feet away.”

“Beau!” Jester pulls away with a dramatic gasp. “Oh my gosh, are you a _gentleman_?”

“Can’t go to Nicodranas without having revelations about gentlemen, I guess.”

Jester pokes Beau in her chest. “You are, you totally are.”

“Okay, you know what…” Beau takes one look at the mischievous gleam in Jester’s eye and makes a decision.

She quiets Jester’s taunts with a kiss, this one definitely dirtier than any of Jester’s had been. She kisses her until Jester softens, until she melts into the thin bench cushion, clutching at the collar of Beau’s shirt. Beau threads her legs between Jester’s, dances her fingers up Jester’s thigh just high enough to tease.

Beau kisses the breath out of her with a smile.

“Not always,” Beau whispers when they pull away, chests heaving and hearts pounding. “But I definitely have a rule about not doing stuff where your mom...conducts her business.”

Jester rolls her eyes and leans in for one more smack of a kiss. “Okayyy, fine,” she grumbles. “I guess we’ll just watch the sunset.” She sits up and leans into Beau again, curling her tail around Beau’s shoulder and bicep.

They sit, silent and serene, as the sky fades from orange to pink to a deep burgundy, swallowing the distant reddish-purple moon. Beau would remember its name if she weren’t so happy. But the night is peaceful and clear and made for appreciating Jester—so exactly what she does during the day, just quieter.

Beau would never admit to anything so sentimental out loud (or at least in mixed company), but growing up near the ocean has definitely had an effect on Jester. Her skin seems to change with the light—soft and muted in the morning, vibrant and glittering in the afternoon. But the evening is Beau’s favorite time to look at Jester, when her skin deepens and absorbs the sky and midnight moon.

“You’re staring,” Jester murmurs, turning to face Beau.

“Your freckles have stars inside,” Beau says. The words are out of her mouth before she really has time to think about them. “Sorry.”

Jester smiles, all cloud lips and moonlight teeth. “Don’t apologize, Beau. You’re sweet.” She pinches the tip of Beau’s nose between two knuckles. But there are tears welling in her eyes.

“Jester?”

“Yeah?” She turns to swipe at her eyes, failing to hide a sniffle.

“What’s up; what’s wrong?”

Jester sighs and gets up. She stacks her fists on top of the railing, fitting the point of her chin into the one on top. “I don’t know,” she mumbles into her hand. “I miss Nicodranas. I miss the water and the crowds, all of my favorite foods and pastries. I miss not being in danger all the time or worrying about the next time we’re going to be in danger. I miss Bluud and home and I miss my mama so, _so_ much.”

Beau walks over to stand next to Jester, rubbing her back in small circles. Every once in a while she scratches her fingers upwards, tickling the back of Jester’s neck. It doesn’t get the giggle it usually does, which just means Beau will have to keep doing it.

“Do you think,” Jester continues, “do you think we’ll ever get a chance to rest? Like, really, really rest, and not just for a few weeks like we’re doing now. I just—sometimes I just wish everything could stop. War is hard and stupid.”

“Yeah,” Beau agrees. “The dumbest.” She unravels Jester’s hands, straightens her up as Beau moves behind her, wrapping her in a loose embrace. “Jes, we can call it quits anytime you want.”

“What??” Jester squeaks.

“No, no! Not _us_ -quits! War-quits!” Beau stammers. “We can stop doing all this diplomacy garbage and come live here where the war isn’t happening. But no, not us; never us. God, sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Jester giggles.

“I’m not saying, you know, you _couldn’t_ call it quits if you wanted to; that’s absolutely your choice and it would fucking suck but you could make it, you know—”

“Beau, you’re making it worse.”

“Okay.”

Beau pinches Jester’s stomach a little, just because; because they’re here and they’re together and right now she feels big and always about the two of them.

“You say the word and we’ll leave everything and come back here,” Beau says. “Fuck everything else, you know? If something doesn’t make you happy, you just...don’t do it anymore. We’d all back you up.”

“Thanks, Beau.” Jester turns her head to kiss Beau’s cheek. She heaves a deep breath and shifts in Beau’s arms, settling into a comfier spot. “You know, when I was little, I imagined so many things about life outside the Chateau, and the Traveler told me so many amazing stories. Sometimes I wanted to leave so bad it hurt. I’m grateful for everything I’ve seen and everyone I’ve met”—she squeezes Beau’s arms a few times—“but now I think, maybe this home wasn’t so bad.”

“Oh, sure; I think it’s really fucking cool. But, you know, you’ve seen where I come from. I basically grew up thirsty.”

“Thirsty, huh?” Beau can’t see Jester’s eyebrows from this angle, but she knows they’re waggling.

“Yeah, you know, wine really dehydrates you,” Beau smirks.

Jester laughs, reaching up to push at the side of Beau’s face. “You’re silly, Beau.”

Beau just chuckles, taking a moment to look at the city below them. The markets have closed down but the streets are still bustling with the night crowd, most of them making their way to the Lavish Chateau.

“When’s your mom’s show? Also, where the fuck is everyone else?”

“Nott messaged me like twenty minutes ago. She said they’re drinking downstairs and then she yelled about when we were coming down but she got cut off, like someone punched her or something.”

“Like a bad punch?”

“Or a Fjord punch.”

“Mm,” Beau nods. “Weak but well-timed.”

“Beauuuu.” Jester pats Beau’s hands twice and spins around, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “We should go join them, I think Mama’s going to sing soon.” She takes Beau’s hand and drags her back into the room.

“Listen,” Beau says as they walk, “I think you should spend the night with your mom. I see you all the time and you miss her so much.”

“What, you don’t want to do stuff where my mom doesn’t _conduct business_ either?” Jester winks.

“Plenty of time for that later, Jes,” Beau laughs.

“Okay. Thanks, Beau.”

Beau shrugs. “Yeah, you know. There’s a lot of ways you can rest, or whatever.”

“Do you ever just say ‘you’re welcome’?”

“Uhh…”

The stairway to the first floor is narrow enough that they have to walk single-file. Jester tries not to pull Beau too hard but she gets excited on the last few steps as the house lights dim and the music starts up.

“Oh, Beau! It’s starting! Hi, Bluud!” Jester calls as she jogs to find the rest of their party.

Beau smiles, still a few paces behind. She holds out her fist for Bluud to bump and is pretty sure they laugh together. That’s what she’s going to tell Jester, at least.

They’ve gotten a table toward the left side, equidistant from the stage and one of the bars. There’s an empty seat between Jester and Caleb; Jester waves her over impatiently as the curtain starts to flutter.

“The beginning is the best part, Beau,” Jester whispers, “can you imagine if we’d missed it?”

“Never would’ve happened,” Beau answers confidently. (It might have).

There’s a deliberate shush behind them from Caduceus as the rest of the crowd quiets down in anticipation. Beau’s eyes flit from the stage to the wonder in Jester’s eyes, but the stage wins out in the end.

Light favors Marion as well, reflecting the adoration from the audience, the flickers of candles and sparkling magic.

These Lavorre women, indeed.

/

Jester lingers for half an hour after the show ends, but the moment Marion finds the stairs, Jester is off like a shot to follow her. She throws a hasty wave over her shoulder, for Beau or the rest of the party or whoever is looking, really. Beau watches her go with a smile, finishing her beer and very deliberately not looking at Nott or Fjord. Caduceus is hard to miss though, and he smiles back; Beau tries not to blush.

She calls it a night earlier than the rest of the party, certainly earlier than she would if she were alone on any other night. But Beau has caught some of Jester’s mood, and it feels like a good time to yearn in the comfort of the night.

Jester and Marion are still talking when Beau makes it up to their rooms, so she tiptoes into Marion’s chambers, deftly avoiding any servants or help. Beau is quick and quiet and back on the balcony in seconds.

She perches for a bit on the side rail, back against the stone of the building. The city has finally fallen asleep, in this hazy hour that isn’t quite night or morning. Owls hoot and other nocturnal creatures join in. Whether it’s from the beer, the rhythm of the waves, or just the fact that Nicodranas itself is calming, Beau feels her chin drooping and her eyes closing. She drops back onto the floor before she falls, crawling onto the bench again and stretching out. She threads her fingers behind her head and looks up at the sky, wondering what Jester thought about when she was out here like this.

Beau breathes in deeply when a sharp ocean breeze blows by. Sleep comes shortly after.

/

Things are different when she wakes a few hours later. Someone has put a blanket over her, for one, and her feet are elevated, though resting on something soft as opposed to the metal arm of the bench. Beau lifts her head a few inches and finds a beautiful woman in expensive robes drinking a cup of tea—fresh, if the rising steam is any indication.

“Oh,” Beau says stupidly. She blinks the sleep from her eyes and finally registers who it is. “Oh!” She tries to pull her feet from Marion’s lap without kicking her but Marion holds tight.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Marion laughs.

“You, uh,” _didn’t_ , is what Beau almost says, but that’s not true. “It’s fine. I’m a light sleeper.”

“And one who snores, apparently.”

Beau blushes and lays her head back down. “Whoops, yeah. Sorry. And for taking over your balcony, I just didn’t want to interrupt you and Jes.”

Marion smiles and sets her teacup down on a side table, folding her hands over Beau’s feet. “Have you noticed that you say sorry for things most people would thank you for?”

“Um. No?” Beau shrugs as much as she can while lying down. “I don’t really think about what I say unless I have to, which isn’t very often. Fjord would also say that I don’t apologize much, so honestly I’m kinda surprised.”

“You’re not apologizing,” Marion says. “You’re excusing yourself.”

“Okay.”

“...When you don’t need to,” she finishes. “That’s what Jester would say.”

Beau takes a moment to collect her thoughts. “Guess you guys covered a bunch of stuff while you talked, huh.”

“Many things,” Marion nods, “though maybe not in as much detail as you’re imagining. After all, Jester only knows so much.”

“She knows more than anyone else,” Beau protests, “and as much as she needs to know. She doesn’t need to deal with my sad shit.”

“No, you’d much rather do that yourself, wouldn’t you?”

Beau narrows her eyes. “Why do I feel like this just turned into an interrogation?”

Marion laughs. “That’s not my intention, I promise.” She sighs and relaxes a little more, though her back is still stick straight. “I spent Jester’s childhood making sure that she didn’t feel neglected, that she knew how deeply I love her. She’s grown now and she can feel that love from far away, but every time she comes home she brings me six people who might not have had that same chance.”

Beau blushes and turns her head sideways, looking at the sunrise on the beach through the bars supporting the railing. “Don’t worry about me,” she mumbles. “I’m okay.”

“Excuses,” Marion replies.

“No, it’s—okay. Sure. We’re a ragtag group; there’s definitely a healthy amount of abandonment between us."

“More than that, I’m sure.” Marion scratches lightly at Beau’s ankle, though Beau isn’t sure she’s aware she’s doing it. It seems like a thoughtless gesture, a habit of comfort and connection. Beau closes her eyes and swallows down the fluttering in her throat.

“Everyone calls you Beau,” Marion says, changing direction. “You’re very clear to introduce yourself that way and correct them if you need to.”

“Well, everyone except for Caleb.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that. And yet you told Jester this afternoon that you didn’t mind if I called you Beauregard.” Marion turns to look at Beau, and winks. “Trying to butter up your sweetheart’s mother?”

“Shit, yeah,” Beau blurts. Marion laughs into the back of her hand and Beau joins in, releasing some of the tension in her chest. “I mean, you know, and other reasons.”

“Other reasons.”

Beau flexes her toes underneath Marion’s hands, stalling. “My dad had a lot of expectations for me that I could never fill, and I kind of feel like they’re all twisted in my name, so I’ve never been a big fan.”

Marion nods. “Jester mentioned something like that when she told me of your trip to Kamordah.”

“Yeah? Did she tell you what she did when she met my dad?”

“I’m beginning to suspect I didn’t get the full story,” Marion says slowly.

Beau laughs. “It’s nothing I wasn’t cool with. Besides, he’s fine now.”

“Now?”

“You and Jester,” Beau explains, “have a way of making people feel very familiar with you very quickly. Which makes it easier to trust you with, you know, dads and names. And stuff.”

“And stuff,” Marion smiles, the sun glinting off of her cheeks and casting a scarlet glow on the ground. She rearranges the blanket over Beau's legs, straightening it where she's twisted and moved. “Your feet were like ice when I came out here. They seem warm now.”

Beau recognizes what’s hidden in her words, the out that Marion is offering. She could very easily get up and go inside, spend the next few hours curled up next to Jester until she wakes up. But Marion’s right; she is warm now. Warm and calm and far too comfortable to move.

“Well, you know, they definitely are warm. Then again, my head—fresh buzz, cool breeze...you know how it is.”

“Oh, yes.”

“Besides, I’d love to be comfortable for when Jester finds us.”

Marion furrows her brows. “Jester?”

“Sure.” Beau pulls the blanket up and starts to readjust. “I’ve circled all the way back around to sleepy so I can’t keep my eyes open much longer, and we both know that Jester will bust in here when she can’t find me, and then run back right after with her sketchbook.” Beau lies down on her side, her feet on the other side of the bench, and hesitates just a little bit in case Marion wants to stop her. But Marion doesn’t move, and Beau rests her head in her lap.

“I know that I”—Beau pauses to heave a huge yawn—“I at least want to look rested when she draws a whole page of me.”

“Of course,” Marion murmurs. She fixes the corner of the blanket that Beau can’t reach, draping it over her shoulder. Beau hears the clink of ceramic on glass as Marion reaches for her tea. Her free hand threads through Beau’s hair, her nails lightly scratching near Beau’s scalp and lulling her to sleep once more.

/

Jester, it turns out, fills three pages.


End file.
